


Falling On Deaf Ears

by Propernicethat



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Burning, Ear Torture, Gore, Heat Torture, Interrogation, Knife restraint, Leaking fluids, Light restraint, M/M, Medical, Medical Torture, Medical examination gone wrong, Mutilation, Psychological Torture, Stabbing, Torture, non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-07 10:48:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3171902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Propernicethat/pseuds/Propernicethat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Red Spies mindgames with the Medic have gone too far and when the routine medical examination comes around, the good Doctor takes advantage, providing the Frenchman with an  ear examination to die for. </p><p>Warning! As with all my fics check the tags carefully before reading.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling On Deaf Ears

**Author's Note:**

> A request fic for a lovely certain someone on Steam. 
> 
> Sorry I couldn't include everything in there, I didn't want to cram so much into one procedure.  
> I enjoyed writing this thoroughly.

"I am ready for the Uber!"

Bellowed the Red Heavy, throwing his cumbersome form forward into the fray. The cart was moving forward and Red team were at a loss on what to do. They'd tried pushing forward, only to have the Blu Sniper pick them off, then when they'd tried to get around the back way, the Spy had taken care of them. Today, and the past few days his favourite target had been the Red Medic. At every opportunity, even when the Medic was moving out of spawn, he went for him, successfully stabbing the German in the back and sending him right back into the very respawn he came from. The Medic had become paranoid and kept turning around swiftly, his Kritzkrieg aimed directly at the Russian's back as they pushed forward. They rounded the corner and the Doctor immediately pushed the healing device into gear. The machine rumbled, as the light intensified from the barrels, sparks flying as the Heavy's frame began to glow. He suddenly became so much stronger, his bullets never missed and they did double the usual damage on an enemy body. One bullet would go though a single body, when Kritzed the Heavies bullets effortlessly pelted though stone walls. The Blue team saw the Heavy and Medic pair approaching the cart, which was almost at the final check point, they immediately began to back off. The Blu Sniper aimed for the Medic but luck was on the Red's side this match, the arrow firing part his ear as they pressed on. 

It was all going so well too. One minute the Heavy felt unstoppable, then, he suddenly felt the heat from the Kritzkrieg leave his body, along with the sudden burst of power. He stopped only for a moment, to turn around, only to see the Medic face-first on the floor, a stabwound in his back. The Heavy roared, but it was too late, for he too was stabbed, tumbling to the floor beside the Medic.

"You loose!"

Just another day of disaster for the Reds.

XXX

The next day was sombre, the Reds licking their wounds. The Medic had been out picking a fight in frustration and he and the Heavy have had an argument. It left the large Russian in a bad mood, so he'd decided to go out into town. More often than not the giant of a man returned with a present for the German and they often kissed and made up. The Pyro couldn't chuckle no matter how high their flames grew and the Engineer had retired to the garage, not even the familiar sound of his whistling or guitar playing could be heard. The Red Sniper was nowhere to be seen, most likely out murdering cats or talking to his therapist and the Scout was out for a jog. It seems the only one of them in high spirits was the Demoman, but he'd gone into town to share his good mood with a more cheerful crowd than his team mates, even the Soldier was quiet, sat alone and clicking his shovel back and forth against his knee. 

"Herr Spy, I want to ask you something."

The Medic gripped the sleeve of the Frenchman, who was about to step into his own room, his form half disappeared as he instinctively activated his watch upon being touched. The good Doctor had been prowling around the hallways looking for the man and now he'd found him, his grip had become iron as he clenched the fabric in his fist.

"I've got a feeling, you're going to give me no choice but to answer."

He looked down at the hand on his wrist, shrugging the Medic off dismissively as he stood in his doorway, the cloaking device slowly deactivating as more and more of his suited form came into view. 

"Can you tell me about your Blu counterpart?"

"...What exactly do you want to know about him, Doctor?"

The Spy leaned in against the doorway now, lighting up a cigarette, looking considerably bothered and uninterested in what the Medic had to say. He had more important things to do like sitting down. 

"How does he always manage to get to me?"

"...Because you're healing the Heavy, behind him, easy target."

The Spy replied, smoke filtering from between his teeth.

"Ja, but..surely you should be protecting me, watching my back."

The Spy scoffed at this. 

"Why should I be watching your back when I have the enemy team's backs to keep an eye on? You're not a child are you? Can you not take care of yo-.."

"You know what I mean Herr Spy. I've seen the Blu Spy decloak enough times in order to target you, foil your plans, disguise himself as you."

"You're not a special snowflake, Medic. He's intentionally going for you to prevent the Heavy from receiving your uber isn't that obvious?"

"But I-.."

"DON'T. Take it personally."

The Spy slammed the door on the Medic's face, the lock clicking.

XXX

The Medic spent the rest of the day brooding and things only went from bad to worse the next day on the battlefield. He was building his uber, and out of the corner of his eye he'd seen the Red Spy's cloaking device rippling like heatwaves in the air. The notion had distracted him just enough for the knife to go in his back from behind. He slumped to the floor in a heap, but not before looking up, only to see the Red Spy, standing in the doorway of a nearby shelter, uncloaked and grinning at him. He'd watched the Blu Spy murder him, and he hadn't done a thing about it, this was personal. 

Needless to say, they failed again. 

XXX

It was the routine medical check up for each of the Mercs a few days later. The Medic had a check list and was personally going to each of the Mercs room to collect them because he didn't trust them to come themselves, most of the time they didn't show up at all. He'd seen the Heavy first, who'd passed with flying colours, the giant had gone for a walk, leaving the Doctor to his work. He'd collected and worked on most Mercs, nothing too elaborate other than routine jabs and a verbal consultation which often more than not turned into an interrogation. The only Merc left on the list was the Spy. The Medic was still angry with the Frenchman and as he knocked on the door of the Spies room he wasn't surprised to hear a "go away." from within. 

"..Herr Spy..is time for your check up?"

"Ten minutes, Doctor."

The man snapped, then left the Medic with silence. The good Doctor snorted.

"Come to the Med Bay."

He spoke to the door before heading back, he'd wait for the Spy there. 

XXX

The Spy sat on the table, arms crossed as he frowned with every fibre of his being towards the Doctor. The Medic didn't know what he'd done to deserve such behaviour and personally believed that he himself should be the sour one, not the Frenchman before him. 

"I saw what happened on the battlefield."

The Spy laughed, a hitch of breath as he went for his cigarettes, the Doctor slapped the Frenchman's hand away, eyes narrowing as he moved in closer. His hand had gripped the Spies wrist, keeping a firm hold of it as he spoke.

"Don't laugh Herr Spy, now tell me, what exactly was that?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

The masked man said dismissively, rolling his eyes, he began to try and pull away from the Medic, only to find the good Doctor had a very strong grip on his wrist still. He shifted his gaze to the German, frowning. 

"You're going to tell me what happened."

The Medic immediately moved in close, his face inches from his, his voice a low hiss as those eyes narrowed, his other hand clenched into a fist, fighting the urge to punch the Frenchman. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear you, speak up."

The Spy sneered, that shit eating grin on his lips as he challenged the Medic. There was a tense silence before the Doctor broke it, lifting his head, raising his back but keeping his hold on the Frenchman's wrist. 

"...Then perhaps it's for the best that you came for your check up, afterall it sounds to me you need your ears thoroughly cleaned, Herr Spy."

The Medic slammed his fist into the Spies face full force, the Frenchman absolutely infuriated by the guard he'd let down for that second. He fell back against the table, his free hand speedily moving into his suit jacket's pocket, pulling out his butterfly knife and flicking the blade out. He tried to stab the Doctor but the German was one step ahead of him again. The Medic gripped the Frenchman's other wrist with surprising speed, slamming both of the Spies hands back against the wooden table either sides of his head. They both grunted with their struggle, squirming and pushing, the Medic let go of the Spies left wrist only to pull the knife out from between the Frenchman's fingers. He pushed the other's wrist down against the wood once more, taking the knife and driving it down so hard, it punctured though the Spies leather glove, then his hand and impregnated into the wood with a sickening crunch. The Spy screamed out, thrashing against the table, trying to lift his hand, only to receive an agonising sting of pain in return, skin ripping and bones grinding around the metal, blood pooling from the wound. The Medic slipped a hand into the Spies jacket, the other still holding the squirming Frenchman's wrist as he felt the German's large hand trailing his upper chest. He found what he was looking for, a second butterfly knife, and the Spy knew what was coming next.

XXX

"Looks good, much more effective, ja?"

The Medic said, when he was eventually done with the Spy. The second butterfly knife had been slammed into the Frenchman's other hand, pinned up on either sides of the Spies head. The Frenchman kicked his feet, raised his back only to slam it back down against the wooden table top. He hissed between his teeth in agitation, lifting his head from the table and glaring at the German, who returned the expression with deranged vigour. It was the Doctor who broke the eye contact, turning away, his footsteps echoing across the silent med bay. The Spy looked around carefully, wiggling his hands, only to find the motion only caused more blood to ooze from the wounds. The German returned with a fully charged Otoscope, as he compressed the device the light shon from the scope. The Spy watched, closing his eyes when the Medic's hand came forward, only to grip the top of his ski mask and pull it from his head. The Frenchman swore, wrinking his hooked nose.

"Oh..don't worry, Doctor and patient confidentiality remember?"

He stroked a hand up the Spies gaunt cheekbone, soft stubble wasted on gloved hands, he proceeded to grip the Spies hair, turning his head to the side in order to push the Otoscope into the Frenchman's left ear. He hummed softly, taking a good look, genuinely impressed.

"I can see all the way down, Herr Spy. You must clean your ears regularly."  


"..I'm flattered, Doctor. I syringe them regularly."

The Spy retorted, rolling his eyes. The last thing he wanted was a build up of wax when he daily had to strain his ears for small sounds. Not to mention earwax on the inside of his mask was never an attractive thing. The Doctor removed the otoscope, he walked around the table and repeated his examination of the right ear, pleasantly surprised to find that this one was even cleaner than the first. 

"..So, as you can see, there is nothing wrong with my ears, unha-.."

He jolted and a scream escaped him as his entire body began to strain against the table. Disorientated and confused by the sensation, the Spy turned his eyes to the Doctor beside him, who was still holding his head very firmly. The man was also holding a thin metal rod, often used for Sounding, and he was pushing it into the Spies ear canal. He didn't stop there though, the cold metal was force-fed so hard into the Frenchman's ear that the metal tip smashed though his eardrum with a sickening pop, a horrendous burning sensation took over as the Spy began to repeatedly swallow, unable to even pull his head away from the German's grip. The Spy shouted out loudly, only to find that the trauma in his right ear had caused him to loose his hearing, further disorientating the Frenchman, his vision falling as he began to feel light headed and nauseous. He shouted out abuse towards his captor, howling as the Medic wiggled the rod back and forth as puss mixed with thin blood began to leak to the surface, filling the ear and pouring over the sides. Playfully, the Doctor slammed the metal rod down, which caused the Spy to scream again in agony, his body twisting and turning as the crippling pain shockwaved though his body. The Doctor was probing the underside of the Spies Cochlea, the rod located in the auditory tube, probing and grinding the smooth metal against the tiny organ, he pushed the rod down further as more puss bubbled up to the surface, draining down the Frenchman's ear. 

"Is no good."

The Doctor said dramatically, ripping the rod from the Spies ear and lowering it down to the table. He leaned over the Spies body, hand sliding into the Frenchman's breast pocket and removing the man's disguise kit. He took from it the metal zippo lighter, flicking the lid and watching as the flame began to flicker. 

"We're going to have to burn away the damaged organs."

The Doctor said, in an all knowing matter of a factual tone, grinning down at the now sobbing Frenchman as he held the metal rod to the flame, heating the thing up. He took his time, revelling in the squirming and pleading, cracking voice from the Spy, the soft sobs as the man's chest rose and fell rapidly. 

"T-There..there aren't any damaged organs you lunatic!"

The Spy eventually managed to spit, wrinkling his face up and wincing when he saw the look of satisfaction on the Doctor's face. Oh, he'd walked right into that one. The Doctor brought the now scalding hot rod inches from the Spies face, the man could feel the heat from the metal against his skin as he turned his head away, there was silence for only a moment while the Medic walked around the Spy, holding the rod precariously close to the Frenchman's face. He snatched up the Spies head with his free hand, exposing the undamaged ear to the rod, which he slowly began to insert into the Spies ear canal. The Spies screams were hysterical, his body would thrust up into the air as he shrieked, feeling the scolding hot rod of metal slowly slide right up into his ear. The smell of burning flesh filtered though the air as the Medic pushed the hot rod though the canal and to the eardrum bursting it and continuing to force it though. 

"Steady now..sehr gut, you're doing so well."

He spoke over the hysterical screams, keeping a firm grip on the Spies hair as he began to forcefully thrust the rod in and out of the ear, causing more puss to squirt from the inner segments. Eventually he removed the rod, looking down at his handywork. 

"You've made quite the mess."

Setting the rod down, the Medic removed some tissue from beneath the table, bringing it to the Spies ears and giving the outer rims a good clean, gently stroking the sobbing Frenchman's cheek. The man was now completely deaf, unable to hear a thing, he clenched his eyes shut as the Medic pushed his fingers into the Spies mouth, thrusting them back and forth as the Frenchman tried to shake his head. He could hear his heart pounding in his throat and it gave him no comfort. The Medic lowered a hand down to the drawer beneath the table, removing a thin rod with a curled hook at the end, often used in dentistry the end of the hook was spiked and sharp. Gripping the Spies head once more, the good Doctor turned the Frenchman's head to the side and began to insert the new, thinner rod. Due to the curve, the spike didn't penetrate any skin, not until he slipped the rod down into the eustachian tube, twisting it until the spike began to scratch the underside of the flesh separating the tube and the Spies cochlea. The man beneath the Medic's grasp only continued to spasm and squirm, hysterical screams escaping him as tears poured down his cheeks as the Medic began to tug at the tiny, delicate organ, after puncturing though the thin layer of flesh. He attempted to hook it, slicing the base, liquid pouring out and draining down into the Spies eustachian tube, leaking rapidly down into the Frenchman's nostril. He tried again, this time catching the tiny organ and beginning to pull. The Spy retched, body convulsing as he shirked desperately. For his dignities sake it was probably better off that he couldn't hear himself. 

"Look at this mess.."

The Medic repeated then continued to pull, beginning to grow impatient when all he was doing was shredding holes and tears into the sensitive organ. He eventually removed the hook, setting his tools down and simply watching as the Spy lay there, leaking and silent. The man's mouth was wide open as he panted rapidly, eyes blinking back more tears as he looked up at the Medic, his lips moving, rasping sounds escaping as bile filled his throat. Snot and fluid from the damaged eustachian tubes began to pour from the Spies nostrils rapidly, he sobbing increased, his face red and puffy, the Frenchman was a complete mess. Just when he thought his torture was about to be over, the Medic spoke, and as he read the man's lips he stared up in horror. 

"Looks like I'm going to have to thoroughly clean your nose too."

The Spy screamed.


End file.
